


What He Doesn't Know

by cami_soul



Series: What He Doesn't Know [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Amnesiac Harry, Auror Harry Potter, Bottom Draco, Bottom Harry, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Switching, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:00:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cami_soul/pseuds/cami_soul
Summary: Harry was hit by a curse that leaves him with temporary amnesia.  He mistakenly believes that Draco is his boyfriend and Draco decides to go along with it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> None of these characters belong to me. All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.

Draco had worked hard since the end of the war to redeem himself and restore his reputation. Well, that wasn’t quite right. He wasn’t so much restoring as creating an alternative reputation. He had gone to Paris to study and had become a respected Potions Master. Now, returned to London these past two years, he was a regular consultant for both the Ministry and St. Mungos. It was that work that brought him here today, to St. Mungos 5th floor, consulting on a potions poisoning case. The patient was a small child who had gotten into his big brother’s illicit potions stash. Draco had been able to create an antidote quickly, and the child was recovering nicely. He was here having checked back on his progress. 

As he walked down the corridor to leave, Draco glanced idly into the rooms he passed. It was quiet this morning, official visiting hours hadn’t yet started. Most patients were sleeping or eating breakfast. A shout drew his attention to the open door on his right. Potter was sitting up in a hospital bed, a bandage wrapped around his forehead. He appeared to be reading the sports section of the Prophet.

Consulting with the Ministry like he did, often with the Auror department, caused his and Potter paths to often cross. Potter and he had managed to maintain polite cordiality at such times, but there was too much history for them to ever be friends. No matter how much Draco might wish for the reverse. Blaise Zabini had been accepted into the greater Gryffindor/Potter circle of friends due to his relationship with the youngest Weasley. Even Pansy had occasionally been included in their social events. But never Draco. Blaise had asked him to join them many times, but Draco had known he wouldn’t really be welcome and hadn’t wanted to put any of them through that. 

Even though they were not friends as such, seeing Potter in the hospital and injured gave Draco pause. While he was standing in the doorway contemplating this Potter looked up from his paper. 

Flashing a warm smile of welcome, green eyes dancing with delight, Potter called out, “Hey gorgeous, I certainly hope you are here to visit me!”

Shocked, Draco reached out to hold on to the doorknob before his legs gave way. He looked furtively in the hallway behind him for the person that Potter was talking to, but the hallway was empty. So much to process, so little time! Draco stood there speechless, heart racing. What the hell was Potter playing at? 

He looked up and Potter was still smiling at him expectantly. Draco moved into the room and toward Potter’s bed without really thinking about it. When he was close enough, Potter reached out and grabbed his hand and pulled him closer. 

Potter absently stroked his thumb over Draco’s hand while he talked, “Sorry about all this.” He waved his hand toward the bandage on his head. “I’m sure the healers told you all about it. I’m so sorry. I may not remember your name, but you . . . you are the first thing I actually do remember. Your soft hair falling over one eye like that, and . . . yeah, you brushing it back impatiently just like that! Ha!” Potter sounded very pleased with himself, “I know that little frown that’s appearing between your eyebrows right now. And your gorgeous eyes. Boy, do I know those eyes. I drown in those eyes, love,” Potter ended on a whisper. “But I feel like an arse that I can’t remember your name, of course I couldn’t remember my own either – until they told me. What’s your name sweetheart?”

Draco’s heart was pounding in his throat while his mind scrambled to process all of this new information. Apparently Potter had amnesia. And he was gay, or at least bi. (That was a welcome surprise.) And . . . and he thought Draco was his boyfriend. 

Draco was so torn, he knew he should tell Potter the truth and be done with it, but Potter had never looked at him like this before. Would never look at him like this. And it just felt too good, too perfect. Why not pretend for a little bit? Potter would remember sooner or later, and then Draco would be on the outside again. But for now . . . Oh, for now Draco could have what he had believed was an impossibility. “It’s Draco,” he said, his voice quavering slightly. 

“Draco,” Potter repeated, lifting his free hand to cup Draco’s cheek and run his thumb across Draco’s lips. “My Draco!” he added possessively. “I’m to be discharged in a couple of hours,” he said switching gears. “Can you wait and bring me home then?”

Well in for a knut, in for a galleon. “Sure Harry,” the name tripping off his tongue. “I can wait and bring you home. But what about Granger and Weasley?”

“Who?” Harry looked puzzled. 

“Your best friends,” Draco answered.

“My best friends other than you,” Harry said emphatically.

Draco suppressed a hysterical bubble of laughter that was threatening to break free. “Yes, other than me. You’ve been mates since you were eleven.” Draco regretted his specificity as soon as he saw the question forming on Potter’s face.

“How long have we been together?” Harry asked, squeezing the hand that he still held.

“Uh, well,” Draco scrambled to think of a plausible scenario. “We have also known each other since we were eleven, but this,” Draco held up their linked hands, “this is very new. We’ve only been dating for six months.” 

Harry opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by a healer bustling in. “Harry, we’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she laughed. She stopped laughing however when she caught sight of their joined hands. She looked at their hands pointedly, and then looked up at Harry with a quirked eyebrow. She moved closer to his bed casting spells to check on his progress. Draco tried to unobtrusively pull his hand away, but Harry wouldn’t let him and just held on tighter. The healer removed the bandage revealing a faint red mark at Potter’s hairline. “Well, everything thing seems to be healing nicely. Your memory should came back to you. Let’s give it a few days, back in a familiar setting and if you haven’t regained you memory by Monday I would like you to come in and see a mind healer.” She made some notes on his chart, “give it an hour or so to complete the discharge paperwork, and you’ll be free to go home.” She smiled at Potter as she left the room. “And I don’t want to see you back here for at least a month,” she called out laughing as she left. 

“I guess I’m a frequent flier,” Potter murmured, staring back up at Draco with another brilliant smile. “Hey, don’t look so worried,” Potter reached up and rubbed at the frown between Draco’s eyes. “She said I would be fine, and I should get my memory back soon.” Potter slipped his hand around the back of Draco’s neck and started gently tugging him down, but stopped when he heard his name.

“Harry!” Granger and Weasley rushed in the room and over to Potter’s side. 

“Bloody hell, Harry! This is what happens when . . .,” Weasley’s voice trailed off when he noticed Draco, and his mouth dropped open when saw Potter holding Draco’s hand. 

Granger looked back and forth at the two of them, “Harry?”

Potter looked over to Draco with a question in his eyes. “Granger and Weasley,” Draco told him, nodding at each of them in turn. 

“Harry? Don’t you know us?” “What the fuck, Malfoy?” Granger and Weasley spoke at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said with an apologetic smile, “I don’t.” “Amnesia,” he added with a shrug. 

“Well then tell me what the bloody fucking hell he’s doing here,” Weasley said flapping his hand at Draco.

Confusion bloomed on Harry’s face and he turned from Weasley to Draco and back to Weasley. “He’s my boyfriend, of course.”

Granger laid a restraining hand on Weasley’s arm while he sputtered a string of obscenities. “Malfoy, is this true?” She looked at Draco.

“Yes,” Draco said taking a deep breath. “We’ve been keeping it quiet.”

“No! No fucking way,” Weasley burst out, “you don’t remember us but you fucking remember him?”

Granger gave Draco a curious look while she waited for Potter’s response, and Draco thought he had been made for sure.

“Yes . . . yes, I remember him,” Harry said quietly, bringing their joined hands to rest against his chest and wrapping his free hand around both of them.


	2. Chapter 2

Getting discharged from St. Mungos took longer than expected. The visit from Granger and Weasley took a while. Weasley mostly glaring and steaming, and Granger conversing softly with Potter. Potter kept hold of Draco’s hand throughout, a fact Granger noted with pointed looks. Then the discharge paperwork took forever. So it was after one in the afternoon before they both stood in front of Grimauld Place. It was such a beautiful afternoon that Harry had wanted to walk over from the nearest public apparition point. 

It was then that Draco remembered the wards. The fucking wards. They weren’t going to let him in, and then it would all be over. There was no way Potter would believe they were dating when the wards wouldn’t even let him into the house. He should have had Harry side-along him right into the house.

“Screw it,” Draco thought. If this was all going to blow up in his face, he may as well get something he wanted out of it. He halted Potter with a hand on his arm, “Harry . . .” Potter turned to him and Draco reached out to hold the back of his neck and pull him close. Draco kissed Potter softly but insistently. Then he traced his tongue along the seam of Potter’s lips. Potter groaned and opened his mouth letting Draco’s tongue in to explore. Harry grabbed on to Draco’s hips and pulled their bodies together. Draco coaxed Harry’s tongue to come over into his mouth and then sucked on it. When Draco pulled away, they were both breathing heavily.

“God, Draco, let’s get inside,” Potter said in a rough unsteady voice. 

Harry waved his hand at the door and it opened. The wards shimmered as he stepped through the doorway. Potter looked back at Draco when he didn’t follow. “Draco,” he said lowly. 

With a mental “Fuck it!” Draco took a breath and moved to the doorway. He felt a tingling and then he was through! Merlin’s balls, Harry Potter’s wards had let him through! Draco Malfoy, a Death Eater, or at least an ex-Death Eater. Draco didn’t know what to think. Was Potter that careless or that powerful that he didn’t have to worry? 

And then Potter was closing the door and pulling Draco back into his arms. He pushed Draco up against the wall in the foyer. Potter pulled Draco’s hands up above his head and held them there. His hips pressed insistently into Draco’s. They stared at each other, lips almost touching, breathing into each other’s mouths. Draco felt the length of Potter’s hard cock rub up against his, and moaned low and long. 

Draco wanted this! Oh, how he wanted this! This was literally one of his favorite wank fantasies come true. But he didn’t want Potter to hate him again, and he knew if they fucked with Draco’s lie between them then Potter surely would hate him again. Reluctantly, Draco wrenched down his hands and pushed Potter away. “We can’t Harry,” Draco said slowly. 

“What, why not?” Potter asked insistently. “I thought you wanted . . .”

“I do, I do,” Draco rushed to answer, “but the healers. Didn’t they talk to you?” Draco thought quickly.

“What do you mean? Talk to me about what?” Potter snapped.

“They don’t want . . . they don’t want us to have . . . intimate . . . ah . . . relations, for another two weeks,” Draco answered quietly.

“That’s bullshit! What the fuck! There’s no fucking way! Fucking two weeks!” Potter ranted and paced in the small front hall. 

Potter was much angrier about this than Draco had anticipated. It was quite gratifying actually. But Draco need to keep his resolve and not be flattered into fucking Potter. “Harry,” Draco said placatingly, “you have had a head injury. It’s really quite prudent.” Draco walked over and cupped Potter’s cheek, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He placed a chaste kiss on the corner Potter’s mouth. Potter wrapped his arms around Draco and rested his head in the crook of Draco’s neck. Draco brought his arms around and they held each other without speaking. 

Potter’s stomach rumbled loudly and they drew apart. “Go on up and rest, and I’ll bring you something to eat,” Draco suggested. 

“OK,” Harry moved toward the stairs and Draco moved back toward the kitchen. “Wait, which room is mine?” Harry called toward Draco’s retreating back. 

“It’s the one with all your clothes in it,” Draco tossed back as he moved quickly away, not really wanting to get into this conversation. He also didn’t want Potter around as he groped around the kitchen trying to find where everything was kept. 

After a few minutes, Draco made his way upstairs with some sandwiches, and two mugs of tea. He had gambled that Potter still took his tea with milk and two sugars, just like at Hogwarts. He found Potter lying on a massive, blue silk covered, bed in the master bedroom. He had his eyes closed and was lying on the bed in his pants and an old Chudley Cannons t-shirt. Draco directed the tray onto a bedside table, set a stasis charm and then turned to leave, tearing his eyes away from all the exposed golden skin on display. 

“Don’t go,” Potter rolled over on his side and held out his hand, “stay with me.” “Please,” he added gruffly. 

Draco’s legs moved over to the side of the bed of their own volition. He set his wand down next to the tray of food. He toed off his shoes and climbed onto the bed next to Potter. Potter rolled his body, half on top of Draco. “Need to take your trousers off . . . won’t be comfortable,” Potter mumbled into Draco’s chest. 

“I’ll be fine. Just rest,” Draco replied as he stroked his hands slowly over Potter’s back muscles. Potter was a warm weight pressing into Draco. Potter’s muscles had completely relaxed and he was now asleep. Draco lay there a while, hands drifting over Potter, thinking about what this would feel like if it were all real.


	3. Chapter 3

When Draco awoke, both Potter and the tray of food were gone. His eyes felt gritty, his mouth foul and his clothing impossibly wrinkly. He sat up and reached for his wand. He quickly cast cleaning and freshening charms. Dusk had fallen and the room was shrouded in shadows. Draco got up and moved down the hall. He heard sound and saw light coming from the next floor down, so he headed down the stairs. Potter was in the sitting room sprawled on the couch, listening to quidditch on the WWN, the empty sandwich tray on the end table. He was still wearing the same t-shirt, but had added some drawstring loungers over the top. 

“Hey, love,” Potter smiled when he saw Draco standing in the doorway. “The sandwiches were brilliant. Thanks.” 

Draco’s heart took a little skip. Its rhythm actually changed. Potter’s smile was warm and filled his eyes, and Draco still couldn’t believe it was directed at him. Draco gave a tentative smile in return, and Potter’s smile broke even wider. How that was even possible Draco did not know. “Come here,” Potter said in wicked invitation, holding out his hand to Draco.

“I think it’s safer if I don’t,” Draco replied sitting in an armchair across from the couch. 

“Your loss,” Potter said stretching his arms over his head. His t-shirt pulled up and slice of taut abdomen was revealed.

“Don’t I know it,” Draco said shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He heard Potter’s low chuckle. They sat for a while listening to the wireless, and sneaking glances and smirks at each other. 

After a bit Potter asked, “You hungry?” looking up from his prone position. Now it was Draco’s stomach’s turn to growl loudly. “Well, since I can’t persuade you to join me, I might as well get to it.” Potter said getting to his feet and heading downstairs. Draco got up and followed Potter down into the kitchen. “Pasta OK?” he tossed over his shoulder at Draco.   
“You cook?” Draco blurted out when he entered the kitchen and Potter had started.

“What do you mean?” Potter continued to get out ingredients as he spoke. Soon he had onions and garlic sauteing in a pan. Potter added tomatoes and basil and soon the whole kitchen smelled wonderful. “Haven’t I ever cooked for you before?” he asked Draco.

“No, you have . . . you have, I just meant I was surprised you remembered that you cook,” Draco improvised. Going over to a door he had explored earlier, Draco went down to the wine cellar and came back with a bottle of Sangiovese. “Oh, hey, I have wine,” Potter remarked with surprise. Draco pulled wine glasses down, opened the bottle and poured them both a glass. He gave a glass to Potter and sat down at the kitchen table to Potter watch, always a favorite pastime. 

While watching Potter cook, Draco had a startling thought, “How do you remember how to cook but don’t remember you have a wine cellar?” 

Potter paused with a wooden spoon in his hand. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “That’s weird. I didn’t even have to think about cooking. And, Hey! I knew where the pans were too! Maybe this means I’m getting my memory back.” While the sauce simmered Potter put the pasta on to boil and put together a salad. They didn’t talk much. Potter was immersed in his cooking and Draco was content just to watch him, trying not to think about what would happen when Potter regained his memory. 

They ate right at the kitchen table. Conversation flowed easily from quidditch, to Ministry politics, to muggle movies, which they found out they both enjoyed. Potter had no problem keeping up with the discussion, so it seemed as if his memory loss was confined to personal information.

Two glasses of wine made Draco pretty mellow. He sat and watched Potter some more as he bustled around cleaning up after dinner. It was quite cozy in the kitchen, Draco thought he could get used to this. 

When Potter was all done, he walked over to Draco and leaned down. He kissed along Draco’s jaw making him shiver, and when he got to his ear Potter whispered, “Let’s go to bed.” Draco bit down on a moan, and took a deep breath.

He attempted a weak objection, “I should really go back to my flat so you can rest properly.”

“No,” said Potter forcefully, “I need you here . . . with me.” He stood back up and grabbed Draco by the hand. Then he pulled Draco behind him all the way upstairs to his room. When they got there, Potter went straight into the ensuite and started to brush his teeth. He came right back out, brushing his teeth with one hand and holding a brand new packaged toothbrush in the other. “Ear ya gah,” he said around his toothbrush and threw the new one over to Draco. 

Draco was still standing there, holding the new toothbrush when Potter reemerged from the bathroom this time without a toothbrush. “I, ah . . . I don’t . . . have any pajamas,” Draco said, not exactly sure what he wanted to hear as an answer from Potter. 

“You can wear some of mine. Might be a bit short on you . . . now which drawer do you think they’re in?” Potter walked over to his dresser and started rooting around. He fished some pajamas out and tossed them over to Draco. Then Potter stripped back down to his pants and threw his loungers and t-shirt in the hamper in the corner of the room. He pulled on a clean t-shirt and headed over to the bed. 

Draco was frozen in place. If he and Potter really were boyfriends, changing in front of him would be no big deal. But since they weren’t really dating, getting naked in front of Potter would be a very big fucking deal. His hands tightened reflexively on the objects he was holding and then he remembered the toothbrush. “I’ll just brush . . .” he said in Potter’s general direction while he made a beeline for the bathroom. 

While he was in the bathroom, Draco took the opportunity to change away from Potter’s line of sight. When he emerged back into the bedroom Harry was already in bed under the covers. He had his hands tucked under his head watching the door that Draco just came through. He threw a generous grin at Draco. “I like you wearing my clothes,” possession creeping into his tone. “You’re so bloody gorgeous!” 

Draco flushed and pulled at the cuffs on his borrowed pajamas. He walked over to the bed and climbed in, setting his wand on the bedside table. He sat there feeling self-conscious. He knew he needed to be more relaxed about this to be believable. He tried to think about how it had been in previous relationships, but he honestly couldn’t think about anything or anyone but Potter right now. 

He was in Potter’s bed. He was going to be sleeping with Potter. What if Potter wanted to fuck? Could he say no again? His obsessive train of thought was interrupted when Potter grabbed him and dragged him down next to him. Potter pulled Draco’s back flush against his chest. Potter secured one arm around Draco’s waist, then he buried his face against Draco’s neck and kissed him there. Draco felt surrounded by heat and hard muscle, (Potter really was ridiculously fit) and he didn’t think he could move even an inch away. He loved it! Draco fell asleep lulled by the strong heartbeats he could feel against his back.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a steamy one! Hope you like it.

Draco woke in the morning still surrounded by Potter. Potter’s right arm and leg were wrapped around him and Potter’s hard cock was pressed into his hip. Potter himself was propped up on his left elbow, staring down at Draco with a serious expression on his face. When Draco looked up at him Potter spoke. “Morning,” Potter gave a long pause before he continued, “Draco.”

Draco felt at a distinct disadvantage, flat on his back with Potter looming over him, and he tried to push up. Potter kept him where he was quite easily by placing more pressure on the muscled forearm across Draco’s chest. Draco licked his lips nervously, and darted his eyes around the room. He couldn’t read Potter’s mood. He had gotten so used to the open sunny smile of the previous day. 

“I like having you in my bed . . . Draco,” Potter said. “I would like having you naked in my bed even more,” Harry pushed his cock more firmly against Draco’s pajama clad hip to emphasize his point.

Relief and panic filled Draco in equal measures. Apparently a serious Potter, was an aroused Potter. A seriously aroused Potter. Potter leaned down and started nipping along Draco’s jaw, and Draco found himself hardening in response. “Po- Harry, we can’t,” Draco gave a weak protest even as he threw his head back to give Potter more access. Potter’s hand started to wander down Draco’s body, and the knowledge that he would be doomed if Potter’s hand reached his cock, gave him the strength to push off Potter and roll off the bed. He stood with his back to the bed, chest heaving. 

“Fuck! I need a cold shower,” Potter swore as he got out of bed. Draco looked over to see him stripping off his shirt as he walked toward the open door of the ensuite. When he dropped his pants Draco’s mouth dried up and all of his blood rushed from his brain to his cock. Potter’s arse was fucking spectacular. It was strongly muscled from both quidditch and Auror training. So round and firm, with twin dimples at the base of his spine. Water flooded back into his mouth at the thought of pounding himself into this perfect arse. Potter finished stalking into the bathroom and disappeared around the corner. Draco heard the shower start up.

Before he could change his mind and join a slick wet Potter, Draco called out, “I’ll shower in the hall bath.” He grabbed his clothing and left the room, quickly putting as much distance as he could between himself and temptation. Draco turned on his own shower and stripped off. Draco hissed when the warm pulsing water hit his still aroused cock. He lathered his body with shower gel, and when he reached his cock he couldn’t make his hand move away. 

He turned away from the spray and leaned his left arm on the cool tiles. With his right hand he slowly, oh so slowly, squeezed himself from root to tip. He thought of Potter’s mouthwatering arse. Potter on his hands and knees, waiting for Draco to push inside of him. Merlin, what he would love to do to that arse. He moved his hand faster on his cock thinking about Potter moaning and twisting beneath him. His hand a furious blur, Draco came while imagining Potter coming and squeezing around his cock. Draco rested a moment against the tiles until he thought his legs would hold him up. He couldn’t remember ever coming so hard and he had certainly wanked to thoughts of Potter plenty of times before. 

After his shower Draco had to put on his same clothes from the day before so he threw a quick cleaning charm at them. He emerged from the bathroom more rumpled than he would like but there was no help for it. Potter had put on a dark green t-shirt and a well-worn pair of jeans that lovingly cupped both his cock and arse. He was just lacing up his trainers when Draco came back into the bedroom. He looked up, with a smile, and said to Draco, “I thought we could go out to brunch.” 

Hoping to put a little distance between them, Draco told Potter, “I need to go to my flat and change into something fresh. I could do that and meet up with you later.”  
“Or we could just get brunch over by your place. I’m dying to see it. I don’t remember anything about it,” Potter said dashing Draco’s hopes for space. Potter had his serious face back on and it was doing serious things to Draco’s libido. 

“OK . . . I guess that will work,” Draco replied slowly. “We can floo over.” Draco headed down to Potter’s floo with Potter trailing behind. Draco gave Potter the floo address and then grabbed a handful of floo powder. With a flash he was back home. He quickly adjusted his floo settings to allow Potter entrance.

Draco’s flat was in a lovely old building built around 1900. It had large rooms with high ceilings and long windows. Draco moved away from the floo, and soon Potter was there in his sitting room. “I’ll just go change . . .” Draco said leaving the room, “feel free to look around.”

Walking quickly, Draco made his way down the hallway, past his office slash potions workroom, to his bedroom. He had just pulled some clean clothes from the wardrobe when Potter walked into the room. “I, uh . . . I was just going to change,” Draco said.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Potter said as he crossed the room. Potter sat down on Draco’s bed, leaning against his pillows and crossing his legs out in front of him. “We might not be able to fuck, but I can still look. Give me a show Draco,” Potter demanded. 

Draco stared at Potter trying to process what the fuck he had just said. Potter was lying on his bed, wanting to watch Draco strip for him. Draco’s heart pounded and he had a hard time catching his breath. This was insane. Draco couldn’t believe he was actually considering this. What he should do was move into the bathroom to change. But he wanted . . . oh, he wanted . . . he wanted Potter to look at him. To see him . . . naked. To want him!

Draco placed the clean clothes at the end of the bed near to where Potter’s feet were. He met Potter’s eyes and started to unbutton his shirt, he slowly released one button at a time, baring his pale lightly muscled chest. When he got halfway down he looked away as he pulled the shirt out of his trousers. He finished the buttons and shrugged off the shirt. He folded the shirt and walked over to place it in the hamper. He turned around and walked back, Potter’s gaze locked on him. Draco moved his shaking hands to the button of his trousers. Heat flared in the green eyes that were watching. An incredible sense of power flooded through Draco. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband and ran them back and forth against his abdomen. Potter’s lips tightened but he didn’t say anything. Draco popped the button free then slowly lowered the zip, carefully because he had gotten hard from his own teasing. He lowered his trousers and looked down to step out of them. He folded them and walked over to place them in the hamper, before he could look at Potter again. 

Potter was laying rigid on the bed. His hands were clenched into fists at his side and his jaw was tight and unsmiling. Draco walked back over to the foot of the bed, but he didn’t think he could go through with it. He didn’t think he could bare himself completely to Potter’s intense gaze. Draco had made up his mind to gather his clothes and finish dressing in the bathroom when he heard Potter. 

“Don’t stop,” Potter whispered hoarsely. His chest rose and fell rapidly and his nostrils flared, “please . . .”

Draco swallowed hard and took a deep breath. He hooked his thumbs under the elastic at the sides of his boxer briefs, and started pulling them slowly down. He couldn’t look right at Potter so he stared at a spot just over his head. When his pants cleared his cock, it sprang free and bounced up against his stomach. Draco heard a soft whimper, but still couldn’t look over at Potter. He knew he’d gone completely mad now, but he turned his arse toward Potter and then bent over to pull his pants off of his legs. This time he heard a rough groan. As he walked over to add the pants to the hamper, Draco heard the bed springs move. He froze with his back to Potter. 

“I’ll be waiting in the sitting room. Pack some things so you don’t need to keep popping over here,” Potter said in a low voice. Then Draco heard the bedroom door shut. Draco sagged against the closest wall, and his breath left him in a rush. He had absolutely no idea what the hell he was doing.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco dressed quickly and packed a small bag with clothes and toiletries. Then he went down the hall to his office and packed a satchel with work papers and journals. He shrunk both bags and put them in his pocket. He joined Potter in the sitting room. Potter was pacing restlessly, back and forth like a caged animal.

“Did you pack a bag?” Potter asked curtly. Draco nodded his response, his tongue felt too large for his mouth. Potter continued, “Do you know a place around here where we can eat?”

“Yes,” Draco answered, “one block over.” Draco still couldn’t look Potter in the eye. “We can walk.” Draco led the way over to his front door. 

Once they were out on the sidewalk, Draco led the way. They were silent as they walked over to the restaurant. After a few minutes, Draco stopped in front of an unassuming storefront. Potter quirked an eyebrow at Draco but he ignored it and pushed the door open. Draco led them over to a small table in the corner. The restaurant was busy but not too crowded.

A teen aged girl came over and brought them menus. “Hey Draco,” she smiled. “Can I get you something to drink?” she looked over to Potter.

Potter shot a surprised glance over at Draco before he answered, “Tea please. Earl Grey if you have it.”

“I’ll have the same Katie,” Draco added. The girl flashed a mischievous smile and moved quickly toward the kitchen. 

“So . . . they know you here,” Potter sat back in his chair and regarded Draco with a questioning expression.

“Well . . . I . . . it’s close by . . .,” Draco’s mumbled explanation was cut off when an older woman wearing an apron bustled over to their table.

“Draco!” she shouted gleefully. “Oh, my boy, two months! Two months without a peep! You can’t do that to an old woman,” she scolded.

Draco stood at her approach and when she arrived, he was immediately folded into a tight hug. A pink flush stained his cheeks. “I’m sorry Mary,” Draco apologized. “I’ve been busy with work, and . . . uh, other things.”

“Well, who’s your young man then?” Mary turned to Potter expectantly.

“Mary, this is Harry. Harry this is Mary, she owns the restaurant,” Draco introduced the two and held his breath unconsciously. 

“Ooh, he’s a handsome devil,” Mary said to Draco in a stage whisper. “Harry, I’m pleased to meet you. Any friend of Draco’s is a friend of mine! You are surely welcome any time,” she addressed Potter.

Just then Katie came back with their tea, “Are you ready to order? Draco, your usual?”

“Harry, are you ready?” Draco risked a look at Potter. Potter looked back with an amused smile on his face.

“Yes, I’ll have the pancakes and bacon, extra bacon please,” Potter placed his order. Katie nodded and moved away from the table.

“I’d better head back to the kitchen, don’t you leave without saying goodbye,” Mary admonished Draco giving him a kiss on the cheek.

When it was just the two of them again Draco wasn’t sure what to say, so he picked up his tea and took a sip.

“So . . . you’re a Muggle born then?” Potter queried. 

Draco’s tea went down the wrong way and he started choking. Potter reached over and slapped him on the back. “No,” Draco choked out, his voice sounded rough. “No, I uh, no. Mary kind of took me in when I came back from living in France. My parents stayed over there, and I was . . . well, I was alone a lot. That’s when I found this place and Mary.” Draco looked up from his examination of the table top to see that Potter was looking at him and frowning. When he noticed Draco looking up at him, Potter’s expression changed into an easy smile. 

Katie came over then and brought their food, Potter’s pancakes with a gigantic mound of bacon on the side, and Draco’s omelet with a fruit salad. Spying his small hill of bacon, Potter’s eyes lit up and a blissful smile came over his face. He crunched his first piece and moaned loudly, “I think I need to marry Mary!”

Draco laughed, “She’s already married you idiot.” He then started digging into his own delicious meal. 

They had gotten about halfway through their meal when a good-looking young man, with brown curly hair and blue eyes, came over to the table. He was wearing the same kind of apron as Mary had. He stood behind Draco without smiling, and placed his hands on Draco’s shoulders. “Who’s this then?” he asked.

“Hullo Jeremy,” Draco glanced over his shoulder. “This is Harry,” he gestured toward Potter. “Harry, this is Jeremy.”

Jeremy’s hands tightened on Draco’s shoulders, “He treat you right?”

“Yeah,” Draco answered looking into Potter’s eyes. Potter was frowning again.

“Alright then,” Jeremy said and then he leaned down to whisper in Draco’s ear, “I’m always here if you need me.”

When Jeremy had left the table, Potter’s frown had taken over his whole face. “He certainly seemed possessive. You do know I don’t share, right?” he gave Draco a hard look.

“I don’t either!” Draco glared back at Potter.

“Good!” Potter reached out, across the table, with his right hand and grasped Draco’s left hand. Then he proceeded to eat the rest of his meal awkwardly with his left hand, refusing to let go of Draco’s hand. Katie came by to bring more tea and smirked when she saw their linked hands. 

When they finished, Draco stood and told Potter that he needed to go back and say goodbye to Mary. "What about the check?” Potter asked.

“They never let me pay,” Draco said, “won’t hear of it.”

“I’ll just leave Katie a tip then,” Potter dropped a generous handful of muggle bills on the table, and then he stood up as well. Just before Draco walked away, Potter grabbed him by the back of the neck and hauled him over. Potter gave him a searing filthy kiss, fucking his tongue into Draco’s mouth and surely shocking all of the other customers. Just as quickly as he started, Potter pulled away, “I’ll wait for you outside.” Potter looked pointedly toward the back of the restaurant, and then went out to the sidewalk. 

Draco followed Potter’s gaze and saw Jeremy glaring at Potter’s back. Draco went and said bye to Mary, with many promises to return soon. When he reached the sidewalk outside, Potter was back to pacing. Draco didn’t think he could handle being cooped up with him at Grimauld Place for the rest of the day. “There’s and open air market not too far from here, if you want to walk a bit?” 

“OK,” Potter agreed. After they had started down the street, Potter brushed his hand against Draco’s. When Draco didn’t move his hand away, Potter laced their fingers together. They spent a few hours happily perusing the wares in the stalls. Potter delighted in purchasing random ingredients, and Draco kept trying to guess what he was going to cook them into. When they were done they found an empty alley and apparated back to Grimauld Place.

They made their way into the kitchen and Potter started making a chicken and vegetable stew. Just like the previous night, Draco went and got a bottle of wine. He got them both a glass and then sat at the table and happily watched Potter moving around the kitchen. 

After they had eaten and cleaned up, they moved into the sitting room. Potter turned on the wireless and picked up a quidditch magazine. He sat down on one end of the couch. Draco unshrunk his satchel and took out a potions journal and moved to sit in the overstuffed chair across from Potter. Potter reached out his hand as Draco walked by and latched onto Draco’s arm. “Come sit here,” Potter directed.

Draco looked down at Potter’s hand on his arm, “I don’t think that . . ..” Draco’s voice trailed off as Potter drew him inexorably over to sit on the couch next to him. 

“Don’t think,” Potter murmured. After a few minutes, Potter put his arm along the back of the couch and his hand in Draco’s hair. He slowly slid his fingers through the strands, over and over again. Draco leaned back into Potter’s touch.

They stayed like this for a while, Potter reading his magazine and playing with Draco’s hair and Draco pretending to read his journal and relishing Potter’s touch. The quiet interlude was broken when, with an oath, Potter threw down his magazine and curled his fingers around the back of Draco’s neck. Potter used his free arm to drag Draco onto straddling his lap. Then he pulled Draco’s mouth to his own in a hard kiss. He licked and bit and sucked at Draco’s mouth. Draco squirmed on Potter’s lap but Potter’s arm kept him anchored there. Potter’s whole body was hard and relentless against Draco’s. Draco threaded his own hands through Potter’s untamable hair. 

Draco turned his head and moaned. Potter moved his mouth along Draco’s jaw, nibbling a path to his neck. “Merlin Harry! We can’t . . . we need to stop,” Draco panted. Even as he said this, Draco rolled his hips pressing his hard cock against Potter’s. 

“Just a little . . . gimme just a little bit more,” Potter whispered in a low tone. He pulled Draco’s mouth back to his own, one hand traveling down to squeeze Draco’s arse. “Oh god, let me fuck you Draco . . . need you so bad,” Potter pleaded. 

Potter’s words went straight to Draco’s cock and increased the aching pressure. He was tempted, oh so tempted, but this was wrong. He was lying to Potter. They couldn’t do this. 

Draco ripped himself from Potter’s arms and scrambled to the other end of the couch. “We can’t . . . it’s not right . . . the healers . . .,” Draco threw out every excuse he could think of. 

Potter scrubbed his face with his hands. “I gotta take a shower.” He got up and headed toward the stairs, he turned to pin Draco with a hard stare, “Don’t leave.” Then he went upstairs, his footsteps echoing across the floorboards. 

When Draco’s breathing and pounding heart had calmed back down, he headed upstairs to the hall bathroom. Once there, he unshrunk his bag and unpacked his toiletries. He changed into his own pair of pajamas and went into Potter’s bedroom. Potter was sitting up in bed bare chested. His hair was wet and his glasses were off. Without saying anything, he reached over and pulled back the covers next to him. Draco walked over to the bed and set down his wand. He climbed into the bed and lay on his back. Just like last night, Potter dragged him over and pressed his back to Potter’s chest. He wrapped his arm around Draco’s waist and threw his leg across Draco’s. Once again Draco was cocooned by Potter. And once again he was lulled to sleep by Potter’s heartbeats.


	6. Chapter 6

On Monday morning Draco woke up again to Potter looming over him. Potter stared at him. He took his index finger and traced it over Draco’s lips, over and over until his lips wouldn’t stop tingling. Draco swallowed hard and licked his lips. Potter made a low growl and insistently pushed his finger into Draco’s mouth. Draco couldn’t help himself and wrapped his tongue around Potter’s finger and sucked hard. “Fuck!” Potter hissed. He pulled his finger from Draco’s mouth slowly. “You are so fucking gorgeous!” Potter leaned down and kissed Draco, his hard mouth relentless against Draco’s. Before Draco could push him away this time, Potter ripped himself away from Draco’s mouth and stormed into the bathroom. Seconds later Draco heard the shower start up.

What the hell was he doing? This was so fucked up. Every moment with Potter, every touch, was fucking torture. There’s no way he won’t be pissed when he gets his memory back. Draco has been sleeping in his bed for fucks sake. Draco knew he just needed to leave. To stop pretending, and just leave. The problem was as fucked up as it all was, this was also the most amazing time in his life. Potter’s smiles, Potter’s heated glances, his touches, hell Potter just holding his hand, all of it was the impossible come true. Who can turn their back on their deepest desires come true? 

Draco had laid there so long, dithering over what to do, that Potter had finished his shower and walked back into the bedroom with only a towel slung low around his hips. His eyes went to Draco, still lying down in his bed. “Is this a fucking invitation?” Potter growled and glared at Draco. 

“Oh . . . no,” Draco mumbled as he got quickly out of the bed. “Are . . . are you . . . you know? Going to the . . . mind healer today?” Draco spit out, rattled from Potter’s insinuation. 

“Why? What are you talking about?” Potter walked over to where Draco was standing.

“You know . . . the healer . . . she said,” Draco could hardly think straight watching the rivulets of water run from Potter’s hair, over his chest, and down to the towel that was now dipping dangerously. “She, uh . . . she said if you didn’t get your memory back, you should see a mind healer on Monday.” Draco’s mind wasn’t really on what he was saying, all he could think about was taking his tongue and licking those water drops right off of Potter’s hard body. 

Potter stared hard at Draco’s mouth and made Draco aware that he had been licking at his lips. “Ah, yeah, sure. I’ll go by St. Mungos on my way to work,” Potter said, his gaze still riveted on Draco’s lips. 

“You’re ah . . . going to . . . going to work then,” Draco had to think hard about every word he said because the water drops were still trailing down Potter’s skin tempting him to insanity. 

“Yeah, they er . . . they have me on desk duty,” When Potter finished talking, he reached his hand out to gently cradle Draco’s cheek. He stroked his thumb across Draco’s cheek bone and then used his hand to tilt Draco’s face up, just the tiniest bit. “What . . . er . . . what about . . . you . . .? Are you . . . ah, going to . . . work . . . today?” Potter’s thumb continued to stroke his face while his other hand had crept up to grasp Draco’s waist, slipping up under his pajama top to rest on soft warm skin. 

Draco’s mouth had dropped open and he was panting softly. His hands were curled into fists at his sides, to stop him from reaching out and grabbing for what he so desperately wanted. The silence lengthened and Draco looked up to meet Potter’s eyes. He encountered a questioning gaze. “Did you, ah . . . what did you say?” Draco stumbled on his words and they came out in a breathy whisper. 

Potter chuckled lowly, “I asked if you were going to work today.” Potter stepped closer and brought their bodies flush against one another. Draco’s hands flew up to his chest, whether to push him away or pull him closer he wasn’t sure. Draco felt the scorching heat of Potter’s body through the thin fabric of his pajamas. 

“Ah . . . work, yes . . .” Draco shook his head to clear the fog of lust. “Yes, I, ah have work at, ah, at the ministry today,” Draco pushed away and took a step back from Potter. “I’ll, uh . . . I’ll just go get . . . uh, ready.” Draco turned and pretty much fled the room. 

He headed straight for the hall bathroom. He locked and warded the door and quickly shoved his pajama bottoms down. Three hard strokes and he was coming and coming. Fuck! He was so fucked up. Well actually, he thought wryly, his problem was that he wasn’t fucked up. Ha, bloody ha! 

By the time he emerged from the bathroom, showered and dressed, Potter had already left and the house was quiet. Draco wasted no time flooing to the ministry and tried to immerse himself in his work. The day passed faster than Draco had expected that it would, and before he knew it he found himself exiting from Potter’s floo. 

He followed the noise and delicious smells to where Potter was in the kitchen cooking. He was standing at the stove with his back toward Draco. He had taken off his robes and his tie, and had rolled up his sleeves so that strong tanned forearms were revealed. The warm steam thoroughly curled his hair and it looked damp at the nape of his neck.

Draco had been dreading seeing Potter tonight. He was sure that the mind healer had helped him recover his memories and that would bring an end to Draco’s fantasy come true. But he had forced himself to come back here and hear the worst. At least the decision would then be taken from Draco and he wouldn’t be lying anymore. 

He must have made some sort of noise because Potter swiveled around and smiled when he saw Draco. “Hey, how was your day?” Potter walked over still holding a wooden spoon. He threaded his free hand into Draco’s hair and pulled him into a warm wet kiss. Potter pulled back and smiled, “Hey there.” 

Helpless to do anything but smile back, Draco swayed closer to Potter and captured his mouth again. Draco reached both hands up to frame Potter’s face and hold him steady while he pushed his tongue into Potter’s mouth. He used it to draw Potter’s tongue into his own mouth where he proceeded to suck on it until Potter was groaning. Potter reluctantly pulled away, his face reflecting surprise. “Fuck Draco! That almost makes it worth leaving you all day to go to work.” Something popped and sizzled on the stove and Potter headed back over there. 

They drank wine. Potter cooked and Draco watched, and then they ate together at the kitchen table. They talked about their day. They teased each other and laughed. The routine already familiar and dear to Draco after only three days together. When they finished, Draco helped Potter to clean up relishing the simple domesticity. 

Potter was already relaxing on the couch when Draco walked into the sitting room. Draco walked over to stand by the floo. “I’ll talk to you later then,” he said in the general direction of the couch because he was unable to look at Potter while he did this.

“What? What the hell Malfoy?” Potter was up on his feet in a flash, and gripping Draco’s wrist. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I thought I would go back to mine for the night,” Draco said. “You know . . . ah, where I live,” he finished lamely.

“What! No! You can’t.” The green of Potter’s eyes were so dark they were almost black. “You can’t . . . the, er . . . the healer . . . I told her . . . I, uh . . . I wouldn’t be alone.” Potter tapped his forehead, “Head injury you know.” 

“So . . . you saw the healer today?” Draco asked hesitantly. “What did . . . what happened?”

“Nothing, nothing happened. But I . . . er . . . I can’t be alone. I told her I wouldn’t be alone.” Potter looked at Draco defiantly. Daring him to do . . . something. “You can’t leave. You have to stay . . . for my health.” 

“Oh . . . ok,” Draco felt relief wash through him that Potter was still his, albeit temporarily. 

“Let’s go up now,” Potter grasped Draco’s hand and pulled him up the stairs. “I’m, uh, tired . . . from my day.” Potter let go of Draco’s hand when they reached the door to the hall bathroom. He brushed a quick kiss on Draco’s lips and then headed into the master bedroom. 

Draco brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas in a trance. He had somehow lost control of this whole situation and all he could do now was hope that the eventual fall wouldn’t kill him. 

When Draco entered the room, Potter was already in bed. Potter looked up and saw Draco. Wordlessly, he pulled back the covers from Draco’s side of the bed. Draco walked over and put his wand on the bedside table. Draco nervously climbed between the cool sheets. Potter waved his hand and the lights went out. In the dark, Draco was terribly aware of both of their breathing. Potter moved and Draco tensed up. Potter’s arm went around Draco’s waist and Potter dragged him, once again, up against his chest. Draco’s back was pressed against Potter and Draco could feel the hot hard length of Potter’s cock burning through the fabric covering his arse. Draco’s own cock ached and leaked underneath his pajamas. 

“Go to sleep Draco,” Potter growled in his ear. And when Potter’s breath evened out and he made no other moves, Draco found that he was able to fall asleep surrounded by Potter’s strong arms.


	7. Chapter 7

Tuesday morning Draco woke to the now familiar weight of Potter’s body draped all over him. A new sensation, however, was added this morning. Potter’s mouth was right behind Draco’s ear, licking and nibbling. Draco squirmed involuntarily and then tilted his head to give Potter more room to maneuver. The fingers tangled in Draco’s hair tightened and a pleased hum vibrated against Draco’s throat. 

The hard muscled thigh that was thrown across Draco’s groin pressed down and moved slowly back and forth on his now aching cock. Draco moaned and moved his hands toward Potter’s chest to do what, exactly, he really didn’t know. He never found out because, before he could touch Potter, both of his hands were grabbed and pressed into the mattress over his head. Potter’s mouth migrated from Draco’s throat to his mouth, his tongue dipping inside and plundering at will. Potter’s mouth was relentless and there was no escape from it for Draco, pinned down to the bed like he was. Draco thrust his hips up against Potter’s thigh, seeking friction for his cock. Fuck he was close! He had turned into a mindless creature of pleasure. 

Potter lifted his head and looked at Draco, his ragged breath skating across Draco’s wet swollen lips. “What do you want, Draco?” Potter asked. When Draco did nothing but swallow hard and stare back, Potter pressed on. Potter forced his thigh down harder onto Draco’s cock. “What do you want . . . right now?” 

“I . . . I want,” Draco closed his eyes trying to block the dark eyes and fierce expression above him, “I . . . I, uh . . . we . . .” Draco swallowed hard again. Draco screwed his eyes shut tighter and his voice came out in a harsh whisper. “Work . . . I, we need to . . . work, go to work.” 

The weight of the heavy warm body left his, and then Draco heard a door slam followed by a shower turning on. Draco let out the sob he had been holding in. Then he swiftly got out of bed and headed to the hall bath, determined not to be caught lingering today. He didn’t think his sanity could take it.

When he reached the bathroom, Draco looked at himself in the mirror. He didn’t recognize the wild thing staring back at him. This was the Draco that Potter had seen. His hair was falling in all directions, his eyes were wide and mostly black, and his face and chest were flushed pink. But worst of all his lips looked like sex, they were puffy and rosy and wet and trembling. Draco touched them with his fingers, not sure if they were still a part of his body or not. This wasn’t him. This needy sexual creature that Potter had turned him into. 

How had this happened? Draco had had plenty of sex before. Good sex, even great sex a few times. But he had never before been so ruled by his desires. Why was everything always so different with Potter, always so heightened? Briskly, Draco turned away from his image and turned the shower on, setting the temperature as cold as he could stand it. He was no impulsive teenager, he would control himself. 

When he emerged dressed and ready for work, Potter had already left and Draco blew out a sigh of relief and left to get on with his own day. Throughout his day, when he caught his own refection, Draco was reminded of what Potter had reduced him to that morning. 

Draco had been reluctant face the fallout from the morning and so arrived back at Potter’s later than he had the previous day. 

“You’re late,” Potter was standing and waiting for him at the floo. Draco opened his mouth to give an excuse but Potter interrupted him, “We’re eating at Ron and Hermione’s. Were late.” Potter grabbed his arm and Draco felt the familiar twist as he was apparated outside of a small cottage surrounded by riotous flower beds. 

The door was pulled open by Granger, who must have been on the lookout for them. “Harry, Draco, so glad you could make it.” She gave Harry a warm hug and kiss as he moved into the house. They moved into a comfortably furnished sitting room filled with overstuffed couches and chairs, with bright colors. “Harry I know you’ll want a beer. Draco what can I get you to drink?” Hermione asked graciously.

“He likes wine . . . here, I brought some,” Harry thrust a bag, which Draco hadn’t even realized he was carrying, in Hermione’s direction.

“Wow Harry, that was . . . thoughtful,” Hermione commented. “Ron’s just getting the kids into bed. I’ll be right back with the drinks.” Hermione headed out a doorway in the back of the room. 

“What? What are we . . .,” Draco was cut off by a loud shriek.

“Unca Harry! Unca Harry!” a small whirlwind of pink and purple raced into the room and threw itself at Potter’s legs. He reached down and picked her up.

“Rosie my Rosie!” Potter tossed the little girl up in the air and she shrieked and laughed loudly. 

Just then a half dressed toddler ran into the room. “Ha-a Ha-a Ha-a!” He tripped just as he was about to reach Potter, but since Potter already had his hands full of small child he couldn’t do anything to stop the impending fall. 

Draco reached out with his seeker’s reflexes and scooped the boy up, before he landed face first on the floor. The startled youngster reached out and grabbed onto Draco’s face with both hands. “Hi,” Draco said to him in a soft voice.

The boy brought his face close to where he still held Draco’s and answered, “Hi.”

“Unca Harry, who’s this?” Rose twisted in Potter’s arms to look at Draco.

“This is Draco. Draco this is Rose and Hugo, my godchildren,” Potter pressed a kiss onto Rose’s hair as he made the introduction. 

“Hi, Draco,” Rose smiled and fluttered her eyelashes at Draco. 

Draco laughed and smiled back, “Hi there yourself.”

Hugo, unhappy with the attention his sister was getting, used his hands to pull Draco’s face back to his, “Day-ko, hi Day-ko.” 

“Hello Hugo,” Draco smiled at the little boy in his arms. 

“Here are the drinks,” Hermione walked back into the room, drinks floating behind her, and noticed her children. “Ron . . . I thought you were getting them to bed. Why are they in here with Harry and Draco?” Hermione shouted toward the back of the house. 

Ron walked in the room and flopped on the couch, “Hey Harry, . . . Malfoy. ‘Mione, you know how they get. As soon as they heard Harry’s voice, they took off.” He threw a pleading look in his wife’s direction. “I’ve got no energy left.”

“Yeah, but now they will be impossible to get down and I still need to finish cooking,” she gave Ron an exasperated look. 

“We’ll put them to bed,” Potter volunteered. 

“Yay!” cheered Rose. 

“We couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re guests,” Hermione walked over to take Hugo from Draco. 

“No, no, no! Want Day-ko!” Hugo stuck out his lip and threw his arms tightly around Draco’s neck. 

“Seriously, Hermione, it’s fine. I’ve done it before, I know what to do,” Potter reasoned. “You finish dinner, and Ron, you lay there like a lump. And Draco and I will take care of the kids.”   
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Ron quipped, “fresh troops and all that.” Ron rested his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes.

‘Well, if you really don’t mind . . . thank you,” she tossed a grateful look at Potter and a worried look at Draco.

“This way,” Potter said. Putting Rose on his shoulders and heading out to the hallway. 

They quickly reached what looked to Draco like a children’s room. It held two small beds and had toys and books scattered everywhere. 

“Ok, Rosie and I will brush her teeth and Hugo needs a fresh diaper,” he told Draco. Potter took Rose into the nearby bathroom where more laughing and shrieking was heard.

Draco looked down at the boy in his arms who had stuffed the fingers of one hand into his mouth and was looking solemnly back at Draco. Ok, he could do this. Malfoys were not so easily defeated. Draco looked around the room, and his eyes landed on a table top that held a small cushion and a stack of white rectangles. He walked over and laid Hugo down on the cushion. The boy was currently only wearing a t-shirt and a diaper. He examined the mysterious garment carefully. There were no buttons, snaps or zippers that he could see, so he just vanished the diaper. 

Hugo express his enjoyment of his new freedom by twisting around on the padded surface and trying to flip over. Draco turned him gently back onto his back, but Hugo started whining and squirming harder. Draco handed the boy a stuffed hippogriff that was also there on the table, probably for just this reason Draco acknowledged. The toy calmed the child down so that Draco could turn his attention to the new diaper. He picked up one of the white rectangles and realized that it needed to be unfolded. He carefully unfolded it, puzzling at what seemed to be random sections of elastic and smooth material. When it was entirely unfolded, it vaguely resembled a pair of pants that had been cut apart. When he could see no visible fasteners on the fresh diaper, Draco realized that he had been too quick to vanish the old one and he really should have studied it more. 

Potter returned to the room with Rose attached to one leg. “Doing OK there Draco?” Potter smirked. 

Refusing to acknowledge defeat Draco tossed back, “Absolutely, right Hugo?” 

Hugo, who had started chewing on the hippogriff’s ear, paused for a moment to say an emphatic, “Day-ko!”

“OK, ‘Day-ko’,” Potter grinned, “When you are done bring him over here to Rosie’s bed for story time.” Potter busied himself by helping Rose change into her pajamas. 

Draco stared at the object still clutched in his hands. He was an intelligent wizard, some might even say brilliant – present company included – and he refused to be defeated by a mere diaper. He placed the material under Hugo’s bottom and tried to wrap it around the sides but he could not find a way to fasten it. Draco pulled his wand and spelled some sticking charms at the diaper. Satisfied, Draco picked Hugo up again and the diaper promptly slid right off his legs. 

Of course Potter had chosen that moment to check on his progress and was now doubled over in laughter. “Draco . . .” Potter chuckled, “there are sticky tabs . . . on the sides.” He managed to get out before laughter overtook him again. 

Refusing to look at the handsome man laughing his arse off, Draco again laid the little boy down to attack to problem once more. This time his examination revealed the tabs Potter was talking about and Draco was able to fasten the diaper tightly and lift Hugo without it falling off. He carried Hugo over to the bed where Rose and Potter were snuggled together, looking at a stack of books. Draco sat down on the end of the bed, and Hugo curled up in his arms. 

“This one, this one Unca Harry!” Rose decided. 

The book title looked unfamiliar to Draco. He looked up and met Potter’s gaze. “Muggle story books from Hermione’s childhood,” Potter explained. Potter began to read about an impulsive Gryffindor like girl who was entering someone’s home without permission. 

When she started eating their food, Draco could hold his tongue no longer, “Wait a minute, first she paid no attention to the wards and charms that would be at the door and now she’s going to eat this food without checking to see if it’s poisonous? What kind of a story is this?” Draco was appalled. 

Potter opened his mouth to answer but Rose piped up instead, “It’s Goldilocks Draco. She’s kind of like you.” 

Draco started to huff, “That girl is noth-.” 

Potter cut him off, “She means your hair Draco. Goldilocks is blond . . . like you.” Potter grinned and winked at Draco. 

The wink effectively flustered Draco into silence and so he tightened his arms around the boy curled up in them, and settled back down on the bed. By this time, Hugo was sucking on his thumb and had his eyes closed. Draco rubbed soft circles on his back while they listened to the rest of this foolish tale. 

When he had finished reading, Potter eased away from a sleepy Rose and tucked the covers around her. “Do you want me to take him?” he asked Draco, gesturing to Hugo.

“No . . . I’ve got him,” Draco answered, rising from the bed with the boy safely tucked in his arms. He walked over to the other small bed and laid the toddler down gently, taking care not to jostle him. He tucked him in and followed Potter from the room. 

Once in the hallway Potter took his hand, stopping Draco from returning immediately to the sitting room. Draco gave Potter a questioning look. In answer, Potter used his free arm to pull their bodies up against one another. “You are going to make an amazing father,” Potter said quietly. Then he lowered his lips to Draco’s in a tender, soft, brushing kiss that caused Draco’s chest to start aching. Potter pulled his lips from Draco’s slowly, let go of his hand and walked back to the sitting room. Draco needed a moment to lean against the wall and calm his racing heart. He absently rubbed at the aching spot on his chest.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur for Draco. Weasley was polite and Granger was charming. The food was good and the conversation lively. But even under veritaserum, Draco would be unable to recall what was said. Before he knew it Potter had apparated them both to Potter’s upper hallway and they were moving to get ready for bed. Draco’s chest was still aching when he was encircled, once again, by Potter’s warm limbs. He fell asleep wondering if maybe he should go see a healer about this.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty smutty, so if you're not into that you might want to skip it. However, if you are into it - hope you enjoy!

When Draco woke on Wednesday it took him a minute before he realized what was wrong. He sat up, the sheets falling to his waist. Draco could hear the shower going in the other room. Potter wasn’t in bed with him. Potter wasn’t kissing him and touching him. Potter wasn’t trying to convince him to fuck. Maybe Potter was tired of him. Maybe he was tired of Draco pushing him away and he was done trying. The ache in Draco’s chest from the night before intensified, along with a new ache that developed behind his eyes. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose to make it go away. 

The door opened and Potter came into the room accompanied by a spicy smelling cloud of steam. Potter was fully dressed, he even had his official auror robes on. He glanced over at Draco with a slight smile. “Sorry I woke you. I need to be in early today.” Potter walked over until he was standing right by where Draco was sitting. “Is take away ok tonight? I just know I’m going to be knackered.” 

It took Draco a minute with Potter just staring at him before he realized that a response was require of him. “Ah . . . yeah, sure. Anything will be fine,” he murmured, still trying to figure out if Potter was done with him or not. 

Potter leaned over and that spicy Potter scent filled Draco’s nose. Potter gave him a quick hard kiss and was then moving back away from Draco, before Draco even registered the kiss. “I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” Potter asked. Draco nodded, still not sure exactly what was happening. Potter turned and Draco could hear his footsteps head down the stairs.

All of a sudden, Potter’s feet were pounding back up the stairs and then he burst back into the bedroom, scarlet robes swirling around him. He reached the bed swiftly and easily hauled Draco out of bed and onto his feet. Potter crushed Draco in his arms and connected their lips in a lust filled kiss. He wrapped one arm around Draco’s waist and the other in his soft strands holding him still. Potter pushed his tongue in alongside Draco’s and tangled them together. Draco moaned and threw his arms around Potter’s neck, holding him tight. “This is so fucked up,” Potter whispered. “We need . . . we need . . . tonight . . . we need to fix this.” With one last hard kiss, Potter pulled away and left for a second time that morning. 

Draco spent the day confused and worried. He got panicked when he thought about what Potter would do to “fix things”. He ended up owling Potter that he would be working late, and it wasn’t until after 8:00 that he flooed to Potter’s house. Surprisingly, Potter’s house was empty. With a sigh of both relief and disappointment, Draco decided to go to the kitchen and fix himself a cup of tea. 

“Draco!” Potter’s voice rang out as he emerged from the floo. “Draco!”

Draco came up from the kitchen with a mug of tea in his hands, “Harry? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” Potter walked over to Draco with a determined expression on his face. He took the mug from Draco’s grasp and wordlessly vanished it. “Wha . . . my tea?” Draco questioned weakly as Potter grabbed his wrist and started dragging him toward the stairs. “Wait, Harry, what’s going on?” 

Potter paused for a moment to flash Draco a wickedly predatory smile, “Good news . . . we can fuck!” Potter continued to drag him toward the stairs. 

“Wait, what? What?” Draco’s heart was beating so fast and he was having trouble breathing. He thought maybe this was what a heart attack felt like. He tried pulling his wrist from Potter’s iron grip but it was futile. 

“Fuck it,” Potter bit out, right before he apparated them both into his bedroom. “Couldn’t wait,” he excused as he pushed Draco up against the closest wall. Potter kissed Draco. He kissed Draco like he was in the desert and Draco was his oasis. 

Draco pulled his mouth away and panted while Potter licked and sucked at his neck. “What? What . . . are you . . . talking about . . . Harry?” Draco could barely get the words out.  
“I mean,” Potter licked and bit at Draco’s ear, “Dear Draco . . . the healer . . . said . . . I can go . . . ahead.” While he was working on Draco’s ear, Potter had unfastened Draco’s shirt and then pushed it off his shoulders. “No more waiting.” Potter grabbed Draco’s arse and pulled him against his own hardened cock. “Oh fuck, Oh Draco . . . I want you . . . so bad,” Potter broke off and ground his cock into Draco’s. “God I want to fuck you!” 

“We can’t -,” Draco was cut off when Potter kissed him hard. After a few minutes they both broke away to breathe. “It’s not right . . . we can’t . . .” Draco stared into Potter’s eyes, grey eyes and green silently battling. Their mouths were mere inches apart, harsh breaths mingling. 

“I can’t fucking believe I’m going to say this, but just stop being so fucking noble Malfoy,” Potter growled in his ear. “Just stop it! I know! I’ve known for a while. Just – need – to – fuck – you,” he panted.

“What?” Draco pulled back as far as the wall behind him would allow. “What are you talking about?” Draco was cut off by Potter again.

“I remember everything! I know you lied to me and I don’t care . . . I need to fuck you,” Potter accompanied his words with unfastening Draco’s flies and sliding his hand inside Draco’s trousers and squeezing his cock. “Right now!” 

“Aaaaah!” Draco’s knees buckled and he wasn’t sure he could stand. Merlin, he couldn’t think! It was all too much. It was all so good. Potter remembered and he still wanted Draco! 

Potter’s hand tightened around Draco’s cock and started stroking. “Oh! Merlin Harry!” Draco cried out. “You’re sure? You still want me?” he gasped.

Potter was busy biting and licking along Draco’s neck, “Yes, yes! Want you! Need you!” Then Potter fastened his mouth back onto Draco’s and sucked on his lower lip. 

With a wave of Potter’s hand, Draco was suddenly naked. Potter turned him away from the wall and started backing him up toward the bed, all the while keeping their mouths glued together. Draco slipped his hands under Potter’s shirt and tried tugging it over his head. 

Draco lost his grip on the shirt when he was pushed down on to Potter’s bed. Draco landed on his elbows with his legs sprawled. His hair was falling in his face, his hard cock was red and leaking, and his balls were on display between his legs. “Holy fuck, you’re gorgeous!” Potter breathed out as he stood over Draco. Draco felt self-conscious and exposed so he started to close his legs and sit up, “No!” Potter ordered. “I want to look at you just like that,” he continued in a quieter tone.

A flush covered every inch of Draco’s pale uncovered skin. Draco looked up at Potter uncertainly, “What if I want to look too?” Potter waved a negligent hand in his own direction and his clothes were gone too. Potter was muscled all over, his arms and legs strong and thick. His chest was lightly furred with a darker trail leading from his belly button to the base of his prick. The head of his cock was such a deep red it was almost purple. His cock was a little shorter than Draco’s but much, much thicker. It was so thick, Draco had a moment of doubt that it would fit. When Draco ogled it, Potter’s cock seemed to grow visibly bigger and harder. Potter took his hand and tugged on his prick while Draco stared. 

“Draco . . . spread your legs wider,” Potter demanded. Draco gasped at the order but was so turned on he didn’t think about disobeying. He spread his legs as far apart as they could reach. Still absently playing with his own cock, Potter gave another order, “Pull your knees up . . . show me everything.” Draco shuddered. Potter was making him display himself wantonly, he had never deliberately spread himself like this. “Now Draco,” Potter insisted, and Draco slowly pulled first one knee and then the other and held them up against his chest. “Yes, yes! So very pretty for me,” Potter crooned. 

Unable to watch Potter looking at all of his most private places, Draco lay his head back on the mattress and stared at the ceiling. This only made it worse, not knowing what Potter was doing, and he squirmed involuntarily. “Fuck yes! Show me Draco . . . show me how pretty you are,” Potter’s words aroused Draco even more and made his arsehole clench repeatedly.

Draco felt the bed dip when Potter got on and knelt between his legs. Draco lifted his head back up to watch when he felt Potter’s breath ghosting across his cock. The sight of all that black messy hair at his lap made him almost come right then and there. Then Potter licked a stripe from balls to tip, and sucked the head of Draco’s cock into his mouth. “Gahhh! Harry I can’t . . . I won’t last long . . . if you . . . gaaahhh!” Draco warned. 

Potter lifted his head and looked Draco in the eyes. “That’s ok, we have plenty of time for you to come more than once,” he insisted. Then he lowered his head to nuzzle Draco’s balls, licking and gently sucking at them. He moved his head even lower and placed wet kisses all over the small puckered bud he found there. 

“Ah! Ah, yesyesyesyes!” Draco panted, and then when Potter started to wiggle his tongue inside Draco became even more vocal. “Merlin! Oh, fuck! Yes, fuck, yes Harry! Merlin yes! Don’t stop!” he pleaded.

Potter chuckled, “Like that do you?” before stiffening his tongue and trying to push it in even further. 

“Merlin yes! Yes Harry! Yesyesyesyesyesyes!” Draco was thrashing his head and only Potter’s hands pressing on his hips kept Draco anchored to the bed. Potter hummed his approval and the vibration intensified the pleasure that Draco was feeling. 

Potter slipped a slicked up finger inside Draco and licked all around where his finger was pushing in and out. Potter quickly added a second finger, twisting them around together. All Draco could do was continue to babble mindlessly, “Yes Merlin! Harry! Oh, Merlin! Yesssssss! Please, yes!”

Lifting his head, Potter called to Draco, “Draco . . . Draco.” He kept staring until Draco finally looked back at him, pupils blown and whimpering. “Draco! Come for me! Come for me now!” Potter curled his fingers and started to rub at Draco’s prostate sparking white fire throughout his body. Draco’s back bowed as he arched off the bed every muscle clenched and then he came, his cock untouched, shooting all over his belly. Draco lay there quivering, trying to catch his breath. 

“So fucking gorgeous,” Potter didn’t pull his fingers out, but he straightened them out and was very slowly fucking them in and out of Draco. Potter added a third slippery finger and gave Draco his predatory smile again. “Gonna fuck you now,” Potter growled. 

Draco’s cock twitched and he pushed back onto Potter’s fingers. “Yessss,” he breathed out. Potter pulled his fingers free and then scooped up some of the sticky come from Draco’s stomach. He coated his prick with Draco’s seed and then pushed the head at where Draco was still open and puffy. Potter pushed steadily until he came up against the tight ring of resistance, and then with a sharp thrust the head of his cock popped past and was lodged inside Draco. The quick piercing pain caused Draco to suck in his breath and tense up. Potter stopped pushing and started gently stroking Draco’s cock. As he relaxed the pain disappeared, replaced by a slight burn and a feeling of fullness. Draco looked up at Potter and nodded, “OK.”

“Yeah?” Potter confirmed.

“Yeah, you can move,” Draco pushed his hips toward Potter.

Potter resumed his slow steady slide into Draco’s body. When he was seated all the way in, he asked, “Good?”

“Yeah, good. Move. Ahhhhh!” Draco groaned when he felt Potter pull almost all the way out before pushing back in again slowly. “Oh, fuck, more Potter, more! Fuck me!” Draco demanded. Draco reached up and pulled Potter down to him and lifted his head so their lips could meet in a blistering kiss. Potter was thrusting harder now, his hips driving into Draco over and over. 

Draco reached one hand down to grab at his aching cock but Potter knocked his hand away with a growled, “Mine!” Potter wrapped his hand around Draco’s hard cock and stroked it roughly in time with the shove of his cock in Draco’s arse. It was too much for Draco and after only a few tugs he was coming all over Potter’s hand, his arse clenching tightly around Potter’s cock inside him. Then Potter was shooting, hot and wet, inside him. 

Potter pulled out and collapsed on his back beside Draco, chest heaving and breath ragged. After a minute, Potter waved his hand and Draco tingled from the cleaning charm. Potter waved again and the blankets settled over them and the lights turned out. 

Soon Draco could hear the steady even breathing that told him Potter had fallen asleep. Asleep. On his back. Not curled around Draco. 

The ache was back in Draco’s chest. Every other night Potter had curled around him, surrounding him. Draco had gotten used to falling asleep surrounded by that warmth, that strength. Now that Potter had gotten what he wanted . . . he wasn’t even touching Draco. 

Draco couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t stay. This hurt too much. Quietly Draco crept from the bed and gathered his things from the hall bathroom. He flooed back to his flat and let the tears fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have a couple chapters to go, but I wanted to thank all of you for the lovely comments and kudos. I have gotten addicted to them, and they just make my day. I am thrilled that other people are enjoying my story! C-


	9. Chapter 9

Draco stayed in bed all day Thursday. He replayed over and over in his head all of the incredibly stupid things he had done in the last week. All of the ways he had royally fucked up his life. With each hour that passed he sank further into despair. He had thought, he had really thought, that Potter would come after him. That Potter would come crashing through his wards like they were nothing, and pull Draco into his arms and tell him how much he wanted him. 

He had known it was all an illusion, but it had felt so sweet and sure and good that Draco had started to believe it was an actual possibility for him and Potter to be together. Now he knew the harsh truth, an ex-Death Eater and the Chosen One could never be together. Draco cried until he was out of tears and still his sobs continued. The day passed and the sun set and still Draco lay there. Night came, exhaustion overwhelmed Draco, and he slept. 

In the morning Draco received an emergency owl from St. Mungos, a witch had been slipped a dangerous potion and was fighting for her life. Draco dragged himself into the shower and stopped to get a large coffee on his way to the hospital. He worked on the antidote all day without even a break for lunch but by 7:00 that evening the witch was finally out of danger. Draco slumped in a chair behind the 5th floor healers’ desk and rested his head on the desk. 

This was where Blaise found him. “Oi mate, we have a lot to talk about,” Blaise grabbed him by the arm and tugged him up. “You are coming with me.” 

“Blaise . . . I’m too tired. I just need to go home. I’ll catch up with you on the weekend, yeah?” Draco was in no mood to socialize. All he wanted was a hot meal, as he hadn’t really eaten much in two days, a hot shower and his bed, in that order. 

“No, this is important,” Blaise moved Draco toward the elevators. Draco really didn’t have the energy to argue and allowed himself to be pulled along. When they got outside the hospital, Blaise apparated them and Draco found himself at the Leaky Cauldron. 

Blaise pulled them both to the bar and ordered two Firewhiskys. “So I have to hear about this from Gin? And not my best mate? You and the Golden Boy?” Blaise looked at Draco angrily and drank his whisky in one swallow. 

Draco stared down at the glass in his hand, absently swirling the amber liquid around. “Sorry . . . I’m sorry Blaise . . . it doesn’t . . . it’s not . . . we’re done anyway,” with that Draco threw back his own drink and immediately felt the fire hit his belly. 

“What are you talking about? What’s going on? Talk to me?” Blaise leaned in close to Draco and spoke quietly.

“I just . . . I was stupid. OK?” Draco signaled the bartender for another. 

A loud shout broke through Draco’s misery. “Hey Harry, looks like your boyfriend’s already here!” Weasley’s voice boomed across the pub. 

Draco swiveled his shocked gaze to the doorway where Potter was standing and looking furious, and then to Blaise who was looking guilty. “For your own good,” Blaise mumbled as he moved to go join Weasley and the crew of Gryffindors that had arrived together. Draco realized that his Slytherin pal had a new allegiance, and it wasn’t to Draco anymore. 

When Draco tried to apparate away, he realized that someone had warded the pub to make that impossible. Fucking aurors! Draco turned to judge the chances that he would be able to successfully get through the group of Potter’s friends and out the door of the pub. Realizing that was an impossibility, Draco turned back to the bar and his glass of whisky. 

A heavy hand landed on Draco’s shoulder and squeezed painfully. Draco was pulled away from the bar and pushed towards a booth in the corner. He was shoved into the booth and Potter sat down next to him, crowding him in and making escape impossible. Before he spoke, Potter cast a muffliato charm. Potter’s eyes darkened to match his scowl, “So . . . You lied to me, wormed your way into my home, and as soon as you got what you wanted you crept away like a thief in the night!” 

“What? Wait, it wasn’t . . . I didn’t . . .” Draco tried to explain.

“Did you lie to me? Yes or no?” Potter demanded.

“I . . . I, didn’t mean,” Draco began.

“Yes or no!” Potter interrupted angrily.

“Yes!” Draco shouted back his own temper roused now. “But you lied too!”

“What do you mean?” Potter whipped back indignantly. 

Draco remained mute, pressing his lips together tightly, refusing to let Potter know how much it had hurt to find out he hadn’t really wanted Draco for more than a quick fuck. 

They sat for a few minutes silently glowering at each other, and then Potter seemed to deflate a little and slump down in the bench. “Why Malfoy? Why would you do that?” Potter asked quietly.

“Which part?” Draco whispered, his voice breaking on the last word.

Potter looked down at the table top and asked quietly, “Why would you pretend . . . I mean, why did you say that you were my boyfriend? . . . Was it just a joke?”

“No . . . no. . . not a joke,” Draco replied his normal eloquence failing him as usual when he was around Potter. “Maybe temporary insanity,” Draco threw a weak smile in Potter’s direction.

“Give me a real fucking answer Malfoy!” Potter growled looking up and pinning Draco with his eyes again. “Can you be honest . . . for once in your life?”

“Fine! You want honesty, I’ll give you honesty! You fucking smiled at me, OK!” Draco was back to shouting. 

“What? What the hell do you mean I smiled?” Potter countered.

“In the hospital,” Draco looked back down at the table and started playing with a sliver of wood that had started to break off the edge. “You smiled at me . . . you had never looked at me like that before . . . I just . . . I didn’t want it to end. So when you thought we were dating . . . I . . . well, I didn’t stop you.” 

When only silence greeted his statements, Draco risked a peek up at Potter. Potter was staring at the wall and chewing on his thumbnail. I guess that’s what I get for honesty, Draco thought. “Look, as charming as this has all been, I really need to leave now. If you will excuse me,” Draco tried to straighten up in the small booth and gesture with his hands to the main room of the bar. Potter continued his examination of the wall and was immovable. Draco grabbed Potter’s hand and pulled it away from his mouth, “Potter! Let me leave now!”

Potter turned his body deliberately so that his torso was facing Draco completely and blocking his exit. He spoke slowly, as if to a small child, “You . . . wanted me . . . to smile . . . at you?” Potter shook his head and pushed his fingers through his tangled curls. “I . . . I never knew you wanted . . . that . . . from me.”

Draco looked around desperately for rescue but no one was looking over at their direction. “Yes well, that’s all done with . . . so I need to,” Draco was interrupted again.

“What, what um, what else did you er, want from me?” Potter’s low voice rumbled across Draco’s skin and made him shiver. 

Draco pinched his lips together in a straight line and glared at Potter. He huffed a deep breath, “Really Potter, just let me leave now. There’s no need for this. You made that clear enough, and I just want to get home.”

“No need for what Draco?” Potter asked in that low shivery voice.

“No need for this talk about feelings,” Draco bit out, looking desperately around the room again for an escape. 

“Is that what we’re doing?” Potter continued on without waiting for Draco’s response, “What did I make clear, Draco?”

“You know!” Draco insisted. “That we were only a . . . a good fuck, nothing more.”

“And how, exactly, did I do that?” Potter puzzled.

“You made it very clear after we . . . after we fucked, that it was a one off,” Draco was back to looking down at the table.

“What? What the hell are you talking about Draco? I remember lying in my bed with you, thinking about how you had just made me feel better than I ever had before in my life. And that maybe if we did it again in the morning when we weren’t so tired, that it might be even more brilliant.” Potter’s hand that was resting on the table clenched into a fist, “And then I do wake up in the morning, and when I reach for you . . . there’s only air. What the fuck Draco? Was it so awful that you couldn’t even stay and talk to me?” Potter reached out and tangled his hand in Draco’s hair, forcibly turning his head to face him. 

“You didn’t want me there,” Draco darted his eyes around looking at Potter’s mouth, jaw and hair. Looking anywhere but at his eyes. 

“When did you figure that out? When I was kissing you? When I was sucking you? When I had my tongue in your arse? When I was fucking you? When Draco?” Potter demanded. 

“When you couldn’t even bear to touch me afterwards,” Draco said so quietly Potter had to lean forward to hear it. 

“What do you mean? Of course I did? We were lying right next to each other, like always,” Potter argued. 

“You didn’t . . .” Draco stopped himself before he could reveal how much he had grown to love sleeping wrapped in Harry’s arms. 

“I didn’t what? What didn’t I do Draco?” Potter questioned.

Draco shook his head, “It doesn’t matter.” 

Potter leaned forward and rested his forehead against Draco’s, “It bloody well does matter! I had everything in my arms that night . . . and then I woke up and it was gone . . .” Potter reached his hand up to cup Draco’s cheek, his thumb stroking back and forth. “I need to know what I did wrong,” he whispered. 

Draco began hesitantly, keeping his eyes down, “Every other night . . . you, uh . . . well, you wrapped yourself around me . . . like Devil’s Snare. And, I . . . you know . . . Ilikedit.” Draco ended up mumbling the last bit, and held his breath waiting for Potter’s response. 

Potter tightened the hand that was twined in Draco’s hair. “I did that because . . .” Potter took a deep breath and tried again, “I held you tightly each night because I was afraid you would disappear on me.” He blew out his breath in a loud sigh, “I didn’t do it that the last night . . . because . . .” Potter’s voice broke,” because I thought I finally had you and you would stay . . . with me. I should have known better” 

Draco pulled his head back so he could look in to the green eyes that were suspiciously shiny. “You wanted me to stay?” Draco whispered. 

Potter swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He nodded his head, “I thought we had straightened it all out. I thought you wanted it to be real.” 

“Did you want it to be real?” Draco questioned hesitantly. 

“More than anything!” Potter unconsciously tightened his hold on Draco, pulling on his hair.

Draco started to lean in, slowly bringing his mouth to Potter’s. Before he could get there, Potter pushed forward and covered Draco’s lips with his own. Potter licked and sucked, he ate at Draco’s mouth as if it was a treacle tart. Draco wrapped his arms around Potter and slid his hands into Potter’s hair. Both men tried to push together, as close as they could get in the small confines of the pub booth. 

Potter pulled away and started nuzzling and kissing Draco’s neck. Draco moved his head back to give Potter access, when he did that he caught sight of Weasley leaning against the other side of the booth. “Harry . . .” Draco moved back and motioned in Weasley’s direction.

When he turned and saw his friend, Potter removed the muffliato charm with a negligent wave. “Did you want something Ron,” Potter said with a raised eyebrow á la Draco. 

“Worked it all out then?” Weasley asked, looking between the two men. “I don’t know what you two argued about, but Harry was in a right snit for the past two days. Don’t do it again Malfoy!” In a more conciliatory manner he continued, “Come have a drink, yeah?” 

Potter gave Draco a heated look before answering his friend, “Er, not tonight Ron . . . I, um . . . I think we’re just going to go . . .” He laced his fingers with Draco’s and then eased out of the booth. “We’ll take a rain check for another night, yeah?”

They walked, with their hands linked, over to the floo. “You’ll come to mine?” Potter asked Draco, anxiously. Draco nodded and followed right after Potter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff and Smut!!

Draco woke up surrounded by hard, heavy, muscled arms and legs. He was lying on his back with Harry’s arm across his chest and Harry’s legs tangled between his. Draco kept his eyes closed and luxuriated in the feel of Harry’s body enveloping his. He reached up and covered Harry’s arm with his own, hugging it close. A soft gentle kiss brushed back and forth across his lips. He smiled against the kiss and opened his eyes.

Pulling back, Harry looked down at Draco and smiled, “Good morning.” Harry leaned over and gave Draco another tender kiss. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m here too,” Draco reached up and threaded his fingers through Harry’s inky curls. He tugged Harry back to his mouth and licked at the seam of his lips. Harry groaned and opened his mouth, letting Draco lick inside. 

Harry moved his lips to kiss and nibble a trail down Draco’s throat and then his chest. When he reached Draco’s chest, he spent a long time kissing and licking each of the silver scars that crisscrossed Draco’s chest. His hand had moved down and was slowly stroking up and down on Draco’s rapidly hardening cock. Draco’s hands tightened in Harry’s hair and he made breathy little moans. Harry lifted his head to look into Draco’s eyes. “I want you to fuck me,” he said hoarsely. “I want you inside me. Do you want that?” 

Draco’s heart pounded in his throat, “Yes, yes I want that.” He used his grip on Harry’s hair to pull his mouth back to his. Their tongues twined and he sucked Harry’s into his own mouth. 

They broke apart, chests heaving and breathing hard. “How, er . . . how do you want me?” Harry asked.

Draco closed his eyes against the wave of arousal that accompanied that question. He opened them again to look at Harry. “On your hands and knees, I want you on your hands and knees,” he said in a dark low voice. 

Harry moved off of Draco and got on his hands and knees next to him. He looked back over his shoulder at Draco, when Draco rose to his knees behind him. Draco reached for his wand beside the bed and cast cleaning and protection charms. Draco ran his thumb down the cleft between Harry’s arse cheeks, causing him to shiver. “Spread your knees wider, Harry,” Draco whispered. 

Whimpering, Harry complied, spreading his knees wide and arching his back into Draco’s touch. Draco drew in a shaky breath when he looked at Harry spread out before him. He stroked his hands over the soft rounded flesh, and then used his thumbs to pull Harry apart further. “Merlin, Harry,” Draco whispered before he conjured some lube and traced a slick finger round the edge of Harry’s tight pucker. 

Harry groaned and rocked his hips back toward Draco. “Don’t tease,” he said with another groan. Draco pushed just the tip of one finger in and Harry groaned his approval, pushing back to try and get more. Draco leaned up and over the back of Harry, turning Harry’s face with his free hand, so he kiss him frantically. Draco pushed his finger in further and Harry kissed him back with unrestrained passion. Harry gasped and broke his mouth free when Draco started pushing his finger in and out. “Want more . . . need more,” Harry panted. 

Obligingly, Draco added a second finger eliciting many moans and whimpers when he started to twist them inside Harry. Harry dropped down to his forearms and rested his head on the bed. “God yes, Draco! More, please more,” he begged. Draco stroked his free hand up and down Harry’s spine. He added a third finger and changed the angle so that he was hitting Harry’s prostate with every thrust of his fingers. Harry made a high pitched keening sound pushing his hips back hard and forcing Draco’s fingers deeper into him. “Oh god! Ready . . . Fuck me Draco! Ready for you . . . fuck me,” Harry said desperately.

Draco pulled his fingers free with a soft squelch. He conjured more lube and slicked up his cock. Draco gripped Harry’s hip with one hand and used the other to line himself up. He pushed in slowly, waiting until Harry relaxed around the tip before he slid in the rest of the way. “Fuck Harry! So good, so tight!” Draco hissed out, holding himself still and trying not to come immediately. 

Harry clenched around him and wiggled his hips, “Please Draco move, need you . . . need you to move.” Reciting the ingredient list for Felix Felicis in his head to try and stave off his orgasm, Draco slowly pulled back and then just as slowly pushed back in. “God, you’re killing me Draco! Need you to fuck me,” Harry groaned, “Fuck me harder! Please!” Draco reached around to roughly stroke Harry’s weeping prick. “Gaahghaa!,” Harry pushed into Draco’s hand and then back onto his cock desperately. 

“Fuck it!” Draco growled as he gave in to his primal urges and slammed into Harry’s arse. He pulled back and thrust in harder and harder.

“Yes! Oh, fuck yes Draco! God yesssss!” Harry shouted his pleasure. “Don’t stop, God yes, so good, don’t stop! Yes, Draco!” 

As he shouted out Draco’s name, Harry spasmed around Draco’s cock and came all over his hand. With Harry’s muscles constricting tightly around him, Draco could no longer hold off. He thrust into Harry only twice more before he too was coming hard and calling out, “Harry!” 

Draco rested, draped over Harry’s back, for a minute while he caught his breath. Then he slowly pulled out his over sensitive prick and lay down next to Harry. Harry rolled onto his back and waved his hand, sending cleaning charms over the both of them. He gathered Draco into his arms and pulled him half on top of him. Harry held Draco close while their heartbeats slowed and their breathing calmed down.

“Fuck you’re brilliant at that,” Harry spoke into Draco’s hair as he held him. 

Draco chuckled, “Could be even better. I couldn’t control myself, you were too perfect.” Draco kept his face pressed into Harry’s chest while he made this confession. 

“I love it that I made you lose control!” Harry tightened his arm around Draco and slid one into his hair. They lay like that as they watched the morning light fill the room. 

They lay entwined, Draco lying half on top of Harry, Harry sifting his fingers gently through Draco’s hair. Draco lifted his head from where it had been resting on Harry’s chest, “Harry?” Draco waited until green eyes were meeting his, “I was wondering . . . when I came back with you that first time, from the hospital . . . why did the wards let me in?” Harry flushed and dropped his gaze. “I mean, I have a dark mark! There is no way they should have let me in.” Draco continued.

“It’s nothing,” Harry pulled Draco’s mouth to his for a kiss.

After several very pleasant minutes, Draco pulled back, “No really, Harry, that’s just not safe. Can just anyone get in here?”

“We’re safe, don’t worry. No one can get in unless . . .” Harry trailed off and made a move to kiss Draco again. 

Draco moved away from Harry’s mouth and sat up, “Unless what Harry?” 

Harry wouldn’t meet Draco’s eyes and sat up himself, sheets falling to his waist. “Look, it’s fine. No one can get in, unless I specifically set the wards to let them in.” Harry pressed his lips into an unsmiling line and looked defiantly at Draco.

Draco sat silently for a moment digesting this information. “Soooo . . . when they let me in . . .”

“Yes, yes, I set them to let you in,” Harry snapped at Draco, looking increasingly uncomfortable. 

“But how could you know? Did you already have your memory back that same day?” Draco quizzed trying to figure this out.

“No, that wasn’t until the next morning,” Harry said quietly. 

“How could you know? What’s going on Harry? How could you know I was coming home with you?” Draco insisted, not dropping the issue.

Harry flopped back down on the mattress and threw his arm across his eyes, “I didn’t know, OK . . . I had . . . I had hoped.”

“But, but you couldn’t know you’d be injured, you couldn’t know I’d come and see you. What had you hoped Harry?” Draco got tired of Harry hiding and pulled his arm away from his face.

Looking completely miserable, Harry confessed, “I had hoped you would go out with me, I hoped you would come home with me.” Harry grimaced and added, “There! Happy now?” 

An enormous grin came over Draco’s face. “You wanted to date me?” Draco asked delightedly. He threw himself on top of Harry, “Since when? How long have you wanted to date me?” 

Harry growled and rolled them so that Draco was now the one on the bottom, “A while, OK? You don’t need . . . it’s just . . . a while.” He moved in for a hard kiss, effectively shutting Draco up. 

Draco softened his lips under Harry’s and slowed down the kiss. He broke away to leave a trail of tender kisses along Harry’s jaw. He pulled back until his breath was ghosting over Harry’s mouth, “Harry . . . I’ve wanted to date you too . . . for a while.” Draco closed the distance and their mouths melded together again. 

Draco could feel Harry’s hardening cock starting to slide next to his own. “I can’t get enough of you, Malfoy, you drive me crazy,” Harry whispered in Draco’s ear as his thrust his hips against Draco’s. 

“The feeling is mutual, Potter,” Draco replied as he arched up to meet Harry’s thrusts, “the feeling is mutual!”


End file.
